Welcome to

"i know this language
yet i do not interperate
for anyone"

Claire D. is a tormented young poetess of the "neo-Gothic" tradition. A sampling of her unusually introspective work -- discovered by a friend of mine upon moving into a new apartment, in a diary left behind by the previous tenant -- is presented here in the hope that her insights into the causes and effects of the spiritual seeking so prevalent with today's generation will prove pertinent to the reader's own life.

The poems span nearly three years in a life of great disquiet; the reader can but pray that by today Claire -- whose whereabouts remain unknown -- has finally "found herself," for clearly she is far from that goal by the end of the period documented.

We trust you will agree that in Claire D. we have found the unnatural admixture of Emily Dickinson and Kurt Cobain.

Untitled #2

adding weights to the shoulders
Of this Wobbley Head.
Scratching at the eyes

of my inner visions
Wanting to cause pain

Like mine
In something unfeeling,
To let it out.
How simple it sounds
How outrageously complex

it feels.
Wandering
Wondering

at the outcome.
Light

or

Dark.
Give

or

Take

Last but not Least.

Jim

This time that

i follow my heart
The visions connect me

to what has come before.
The Lion walks beside me

once again
Though he has grown stronger

and his steps more silent

and sure.
We have an aware-ness of each other

and the universe
Reflected a thousand times

at every glance
We live as one

again

Games

i realize now i asked for
this & why.

I thought all this time

i was master (misstress)

of the moves --
I am but a small force

in the scheme.

But ...

reflected by one mere drop

of the Sun's tears
i am a thousand-fold part

of his heart.

Untitled #3

to think i actually thought i was playing
the tape as i wished -- i prayed for
what i am getting. I wanted to know
pain and suffering in my heart of hearts --
I i kneeded -- needed ...

Untitled #4

underneath the layers

of moving refridgerators

and computers with a virus
we Ūnd everything we

could possibly want ...
Right next to radiators that leak

and rims that don't Ūt
Our every wish is waiting ...
It gleams in every old woman's

eye
In line at Lucky's
In front of all things

the glitter of one

drop
The speck of one speck

the dirt on His Toe.
My everything.

Untitled #5

I think i know what it feels
like to "Get Religion." I
think I realize now why "Jesus
Freaks" are so happy.

I fear i'm inclined to
religious fanatasism (?)

in a quiet and gentle way.
It feels healthy

but I had to be

pretty sick to

realize that.

Untitled #6

I am the egg

above the water --
Looking out from my

cool agate shell
Knowing my senses are

reeling in

too much

at the same time.
Strength beside me,
the Sun

in the East,
Roses in the sky

and at His throat
What i thought an illusion
Turns the corner of reality

and one is not just

a word.

Untitled #7

this is not the

beginning of
Insanity
Merely an inspiration

from my Lord
comming at the same

time i have

chosen to
Finally acknowledge

Him
My heart is True

my steps are

small ...

I am His now

Untitled #8

My Mother will

never know
My pain
I will never

know hers.

Untitled #9

She knows
She knows she can see
See me
And she hears
Listen to me
You know the course
follow me
I am calling you
She's comming
She can see me

I know.

Untitled #10

I feel my face in
her hands after I
open the circle. She
looks into my eyes
and I look back and try
very hard to look into
hers -- I briefly see old
wrinkley clear blue eyes and
white hair. I feel the
crone-wisdom flow from
her finger-tips to my cheek-bones
up the sides of my face and
swirling convergance at my
third eye.

I heard the north wind
howling and saw thick billowing
white clouds be hind Her.
The wind was cold in my nose
but I was not chilled.